Nord Mead
by drakontion
Summary: Another old Skyrim fic. Female dunmer Dragonborn and Farkas. Also some drunken carousing with the Companions.


Calamathiel

"Cal."

"Mmm?" I turned around: it was Ria, leaning against the doorframe and holding up a couple of bottles of mead.

"Come upstairs and drink with us, we're celebrating!"

I was sorting through trinkets I'd picked up on my last trip, hoping to sell them in the morning. "What are we celebrating?" Ugh, iron daggers, every two bit bandit and merc had them. I threw several more onto the growing pile.

"Oh, you know, the usual. It's Fredas and none of us died or were seriously injured this week."

"Uh huh." Silver necklaces this time, their chains hopelessly tangled together. The various medallions and pendants jangled and clashed musically. "What about Athis' broken arm?"

"He got that in a fair fight."

"Yeah, if you want to call arm wrestling with Njada a fight. Or fair, for that matter."

Ria sighed in a much put-upon way. "Cal, you need to lighten up. You're bringing me down. Now come on."

"Ehhh, I don't know..."

"Farkas will be there," she said slyly.

I felt my face heat and she laughed. "I'll take that as a yes?"

I grumbled but got to my feet. Kicking my pile of loot under my bed, mostly, I ran my hands over my leathers, smoothing them. "How do I look?" I hoped I didn't sound too pathetic.

Ria laughed. "You look fine. Come on!" She tossed me a bottle and we made our way upstairs.

The hall was deserted and I looked at Ria questioningly. She jerked her head. "Outside. We built up a fire." She opened the door onto the back porch and I followed her through, straight into a seeming wall of thick smoke.

My eyes watered instantly, tears streaming down my cheeks, and I bent over wheezing as my first breath seemed fit to choke me. I felt strong hands on my arm and then I was dragged to the side, coughing and spluttering.

"Thanks," I managed when I had recovered, looking up to see Athis hovering over me.

"My pleasure," he replied, smiling, and I looked around. Athis made me nervous, and not in a good way. I sidled over to the side, away from him.

The porch had been cleared for the fire, which was at least as tall as I was, roaring away. Bottles were lined up on one of the tables. The younger Companions had pulled up stools and logs around the fire, and were laughing and joking. There was no sign of Farkas. I claimed a log next to Ria.

"I thought you said Farkas would be here," I said accusingly. "Where's the Circle?"

She swallowed a mouthful of mead before answering. "Off on some job, too important to trust to us younglings. Skjor's in Windhelm. Vignar is staying with his family tonight. Kodlak went to Solitude with Brill. So it's just us kids!" She laughed and swigged from her bottle again, draining it, and then tossed it over her shoulder. I heard a crash from behind us and looked around to see an already impressive pile of empty bottles on the ground.

"How many have you had?" I asked, both aghast and amused.

She belched deeply, honeyed fumes wafting in my direction. "Oh, a few. You have some catching up to do, sister."

"So I see." I uncorked my bottle and looked at it apprehensively before taking a swig. Surely I was going to regret this tomorrow. The mead burned my tender throat like fire, but that settled after a few mouthfuls. I leaned back on my log, slowly but steadily drinking my mead, determined to enjoy myself - even if Farkas wasn't there.

Farkas

The torches of the gate guards were a welcome sight as we trudged wearily up the road. Aela and Vilkas were ahead of me and were talking with the guards by the time I caught up to them. I caught the hind end of their words.

"...oh, it's definitely very... _musical_ , Companion. I'd probably recommend you get up there before we start getting complaints."

"Well, more complaints," the second guard chimed in, grinning openly.

"Aye," responded the first. "If the Jarl sends down someone to complain, we'll have to take steps. They've been lucky so far."

Aela sighed and looked up at the sky. "Why me?"

Vilkas nudged her, grinning. "Don't whine, sister, it's unbecoming. Besides don't say you've never done anything like this. Remember that time you got so drunk you left your underthings draped on the Gildergreen and passed out naked under the statue of Talos?"

She elbowed him, hard, in the gut. "Shut up, Vilkas, or by the Divines..." He laughed and set off up the hill with Aela glowering behind him. I looked at the guards and shrugged, then followed.

As we approached the top of the Wind District, I started to understand what the situation might be. The air was still and hazy with smoke. Aela sniffed. "The whole square smells like a brewery," she said, in an affronted and faintly disgusted voice. Vilkas just laughed. Lights were on in the surrounding houses but the windows were tightly closed, despite the mildness of the night. And then, there was the singing.

"OOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHH... THERE ONCE WAS A HERO NAMED RAGNAR THE RED!"

I winced. It was off-key and terrible, made only the worse by the enthusiasm with which it was sung. Aela put her hand to her forehead and sighed, again; while Vilkas looked like he was trying to flatten his ears to his skull.

"NOW I THINK IT'S HIGH TIME THAT YOU LIE DOWN AND BLEEEEEEED!"

"By Talos," whispered Vilkas, awed. "That is truly horrendous!"

I couldn't help it: as the singing continued, each note significantly off true, cracked and warped, voices sodden with drink but oh so fervent, I started to chuckle. Aela and Vilkas stared at me, and I bent over, overcome with laughter.

"AND THE BRAGGART NAMED RAGNAR WAS BOASTFUL NO MOOOOOOOORE!"

There was a pause, in which a distant thumping could be heard - one, two, three...

"WHEN HIS UGLY RED HEAD ROLLED AROUND ON THE FLOOR!"

There was a resounding chorus of cheers and then the sound of many bottles crashing together and breaking, and then that peculiar kind of drunken laughter that happens when you know you're too drunk for your own good, but you no longer actually care.

Aela tightened her hand on the grip of her bow and started up the stairs to Jorrvaskr. "Brothers, shall we? At least before they start singing again?"

"Please," Vilkas muttered, and I wiped my eyes and swallowed my laughter, following them both.

Rounding the corner of the mead hall it seemed Aela' fears were well founded. The whelps had built a massive fire under the porch - it was a wonder the timbers above hadn't been set alight yet - and were sitting around it drinking. All except for Torvar, who was standing more or less steadily: bottle of mead in one hand, with his other arm outstretched, mouth open and head thrown back like the greatest of bards.

"OOOOOHHHHHHHHHHH..."

A bottle flew from the other side of the fire and hit him in the stomach. Torvar folded over instantly, and he mercifully ceased his howling to concentrate on getting his breath back.

"Enough of that damn song, Torvar!" That was Ria, I thought.

"Yeah, let someone else sing."

"Who else wants to sing?"

"Cal will sing!" Ria again.

"Oh no, no, no..." Cal was sitting next to Ria, it seemed, and right now trying to hide her face behind her hands.

"Yes, yes! Go on, Cal, you know you want to!"

"Go on, Cal!" That was Athis, and my hackles rose just a little. He was always a little too... close to her for my liking... Curious, I moved to better view the group seated around the fire, keeping to the shadows. Vilkas and Aela moved up beside me, watching also.

Cal got up, definitely unsteady on her feet, took a swig of her mead and carefully placed the bottle back down on her log. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. All was silent, save for the crackle of the fire and the mournful distant call of some night bird. And then she sang.

Her first notes were clear, sweet, and pierced me to the heart; reminding me of everything I'd ever lost or missed or hoped for.

Beside me, Aela stiffened. "Oh," she breathed, "it's the Nerevar Rising." I looked at her questioningly and she jerked her head. "Look at Athis," she whispered.

I did as she bade - he was leaning forward, rapt in the singer and the song, hands clasped together, tears streaming unchecked down his cheeks and smearing his warpaint.

I looked at Aela and shrugged. She frowned at me. "Just listen, you great lump. I'll explain it later."

I frowned, offended, but leaned back against the wall to listen. It was beautiful, there was no denying it. I didn't understand the words, if there were any, but it was full of emotion - heartbreak and sorrow, loss and regret, hope and joy.

The whelps around the fire were absolutely silent as Cal sang, each staring at her intently, spellbound by her voice. Ria had put her arm around Athis, I saw, who had not brushed her away, and even Njada and Torvar looked amicable with each other.

The song drew to a close, leaving the singer standing still and silent before the fire, her face raised to the moons which shone bright and clear, her eyes closed and her lips slightly parted and just the slightest trail of tears reflecting silver and gold on her cheeks. Athis stood and without a word embraced Cal, whispering something in her ear, to which she nodded, then turned around and stumbled inside, wiping his face with the back of a hand. He was quickly followed by Ria.

Aela shook herself beside me. "Let's get this lot inside," she said quietly, and strode off towards the fire. Njada noticed her first and jumped to her feet, spilling mead bottles everywhere. One of them rolled over to Cal's feet. She looked down at it, bemused, and then started to slowly topple over.

In a flash, Vilkas was beside her, catching her easily. I felt a twinge of jealousy, quickly stifled. Not my own brother!

Cal looked up at Vilkas and hiccupped. "Oh," she said, "thought you were off... important business..."

Vilkas grinned down at her. "And so we were, lass, so we were. Looks like we got back just in time, eh?"

"Mm," said Cal, a preoccupied look on her face.

"Come on," said Vilkas, "let's get you inside." He turned her about, possibly a mite too quickly. There was a flurry of arms and an undignified "urp!" from Cal and then an almighty, stomach churning heaving.

All over the front of Vilkas' armour.

Aela looked like she was developing a monumental headache and I... I burst into laughter. Vilkas looked murderous. He snarled at me and dropped Cal, who fell into a boneless puddle on the floor, and stalked off in disgust.

Aela sighed. "Farkas, would you please get her cleaned up and into bed?"

My laughter stopped suddenly. "Me? Why me? Why can't you?"

She pinched the bridge of her nose. "Because I asked you to. And because I have to deal with these two lovebirds here," and she pointed to Njada and Torvar, who had apparently decided to become more than just 'amicable' with each other.

I winced. "Very well. But you owe me."

"Of course, shieldbrother, " she said, and started trying to pry Njada and Torvar apart. I left her to it and crouched down beside Cal.

I had to admire her style, it looked like she'd only managed to throw up on Vilkas, not on herself. Chuckling softly, I scooped her up, slowly and carefully, and nestled her against my chest.

She roused as I pushed open the doors and looked around. "Where?"

"I'm putting you to bed, whelp."

She poked my chest with an unsteady, if bony, finger. "I have a name, y'know. You can use it. Calamathiel. My name-" poke "-is Calamathiel. Say it!"

"Calamathiel," I dutifully repeated, trying not to trip down the stairs.

"Thass better," she sniffed, and rested her head on my shoulder. "But if you like, you can call me Cala."

"Uh huh. Why's that," I asked, trying to juggle her not insubstantial weight and open the doorknob at the same time.

"Cos I like you, silly. You're nice to me. Not like Vilkas. He's mean."

I cleared my throat, certain I was blushing, and was fervently glad neither my brother or Aela were here to hear that. "Uh, okay then, Cala." She smiled and snuggled against me, and I swallowed.

The women's dorm was empty. I wondered if Ria was with Athis and then shrugged. I didn't really care. Cala's bunk was surrounded by a mound of junk and I kicked it aside to kneel beside the bed. As I laid her down she opened her eye and looked at me. Really, her eyes were quite pretty, if unusual. Like rubies. Bloodshot, bleary rubies, yes; but rubies nonetheless.

Cala smiled up at me, a sweet infectious upturning of her lips that I couldn't help but to respond to.

"You should smile more," she said. "You look better when you smile. Not so... angry."

"Uh, okay." I should get up, my knees were starting to hurt, so why was I staying kneeling beside the bed of a drunken Dunmer woman with pretty, ruby eyes and a voice fit for the Divines?

She closed her eyes and snuggled into her pillow, her hair framing her face and fanning out in strands. It looked soft and silky. I wondered if she should take out her braids.

"You have pretty eyes, too," she said, and I started. Could she read my mind? "Like water. Or like ice. Yeah, ice. All cold and deep and wet. Like water. Crystal."

"Riiiight." I made to stand up and her eyes flew open.

"Don't go?"

I sighed. "I have to go, Cala, it's late and I'm tired."

"Aww. All right, then." She was silent for a moment and I got to my feet and stretched my back. I had just started to turn away when she cleared her throat.

"Kiss?"

"What?!"

"Kiss goodnight?" she asked in a tiny voice. I looked back over my shoulder, her eyes were fixed on me and was she blushing?

"Talos preserve me," I muttered, and leaned down over the bed and kissed her on the forehead.

She pouted. She actually pouted. "That's not a kiss."

I sighed. "Cala, you're drunk, you smell like a meadery on a hot summer's day, and you just threw up all over Vilkas. That's as much of a kiss as you're getting right now."

"Oh. Okay." She thought for a moment. "How about tomorrow then?"

"Yeah, sure, tomorrow. Now go to sleep." I was sure by tomorrow she wouldn't even remember this conversation.

Cala smiled and closed her eyes obediently. "Night, Farkas. Kiss you tomorrow."

I shook my head, and walked out of the room and doused the torch. I was looking forward to falling into my own bed, but I couldn't deny that part of me was hoping she'd remember her promise. I wondered what her lips would taste like, tomorrow...


End file.
